Wednesday, August 06, 2014

An Enduring Message

by Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Quite
often, to be consoled requires stepping back to properly analyze the situation.
By shifting perspective, we can find comfort.

This Shabbos,
known as Shabbos Nachamu for the two words at the beginning of the haftorah,
ushers in weeks of tanchumin, consolation. Many commentators discuss the
double incantation of the word nachamu, as prophesized by the novi
Yeshayahu in his immortal statements that gladdens the Jewish heart: “Nachamu
nachamu ami yomar Elokeichem.”

Perhaps
we can explain why the word nachamu is repeated by noting that nechomah,
the Hebrew word for comfort,also means to reconsider, as seen in the posuk
of“Vayinochem Hashem”(Bereishis 6:6), which
describes Hashem reconsidering creating the world.

This
year, we enter the season of nechomah intent on attaining both
definitions of nechomah, comfort, brought on through proper perspective
and the ability to reconsider. We accomplish this dual, unifying missionthrough
the prism of the parshas hashovua. We achieve consolation, nechomah,
by perfecting our perspective, nechomah. Hashem promises to assist us in
achieving both definitions: nachamu, nachamu.

Once
again, the Jewish people approach Shabbos Nachamu in an all-too-familiar
place. The nations of the world are aligned against us as we attempt to live
decent, honorable, peaceful lives. As we are forced to fight against evil, they
chant in their capitals for our deaths. We are the aggressors, they say in
Amsterdam, Washington, New York, London, Rome, Paris, Brussels, and Berlin.
It’s painful. It hurts to be victimized by blood libels, time after time, year
after year, generation after generation.

Make no
mistake about it. Those who hate us and demonstrate against us don’t
differentiate between Jews with velvet yarmulkas and Jews with knitted yarmulkes.
They don’t distinguish between black and white, Zionist and non. They hate us
all equally.

While
most Arab powers quietly support Israel in its current effort, a recent Gallup
poll shows that the future does not bode well for Israel. Although the Arab
League, with the exception of Syria and Qatar, wants to see Hamas punished and
weakened, only 25% of Americans ages 18 to 29 believe that Israel’s actions in
Gaza are justified. Among those 30-49, support for Israel is 36%. Older people
and Republicans (65%) support Israel on higher levels, while among Democrats,
only 31% believe Israel is justified. Independents are a little better, at 36%.
And that is in America, Israel’s closest ally and best friend. Support in other
countries is much worse than that.

The
Tolna Rebbe of Yerushalayimrecounted a lesson he learned from a simple Poilisher
Yid who worked in a factory in Eretz Yisroel. The fellow toiled under a
mean manager and worked alongside difficult people, yet he never complained.
TheRebbe asked him how he succeeded in maintaining his equanimity and
peace of mind, actually getting along with his co-workers, despite their
behavior.

“Hitler
taught me how to look at a Jew,” replied the survivor. “When I saw how much he
hated every Jew, without differentiating between external differences, I
learned how much I must love a Jew, without making cheshbonos.”

They
hate us all. We can learn a lesson of ahavas Yisroel from observing the
broad paintbrush they use to paint us all one color.

Throughout
our history, we have encountered this animosity. Although there have been times
when the hatred was delicately covered, currently it is becoming more in vogue
and acceptable to bash Jews. It has become acceptable for celebrities and icons
to express their open hatred. While they couch their rhetoric in words of
sympathy for the poor Palestinians, the truth emanates. They hate Jews. Once
again, Jews in Europe cower and seek escape routes, a chilling reminder of
seventy years ago.

Some
anti-Semitism is depicted as anti-Zionism, though the folly is obvious. Jews
fight for their safety and are condemned. Millions of Jews were driven to their
deaths from those very countries in which anti-Semites currently flex their
muscles.

We read
between the lines and it becomes clear that the vaunted Israeli army was not
aware of the extent of the tunnels and the danger they represented. When the
war began, the defense minister spoke of finishing the mission in “two to three
days.” However, Hamas presented a much stronger and better prepared enemy than
Israel imagined.

Hamas is
not some foreign group that took over Gaza. It is the representative of the
people and their thinking. It is fully supported by the people who elected it
and who use their homes as storage facilities for bombs and their basements as
entrances to tunnels from which to attack civilians living on the other side of
the fence.

More
soldiers died and were hurt in this war than in the previous ones that were
fought after Israel vacated the territory in a blissful gambit for peace. No
one remembers or cares that Israel left Gaza in response to the world’s
entreaties that doing so would bring peace to the beleaguered Jewish state.
International opinion has turned against Israel, accusing it of wantonly
killing innocent civilians, refusing to be confused with the facts of the
terror state that Israel is fighting against. Israel’s prime minister is
blessed with the gift of communication, but he has not been able to convince
the world of Israel’s moral compass.

Thankfully
as of this writing it appears that another war that was forced on Israel has
come to an end. We mourn the loss of life and pray for a peaceful future. We
grieve along the widows and orphans of men who died al kiddush Hashem.
We daven for those who were wounded and wish them a speedy recovery.

The war
united a divided nation. Every rocket that fell pierced the heart of every Jew
around the world. Every soldier who gave up his life for his people is
recognized as a kadosh, whose blood will be avenged by Hashem. Our
hearts bleed for every wounded chayal. We are comforted when soldiers
and commanders speak of open miracles on the battlefield. We read and hear how
people were miraculously saved andsee rachamim
in the din. We are reminded that we are not alone; that nothing happens
by chance; and that comforts us.

Sirens
went off across the country around the clock, sending millions literally
running for their lives, seeking shelter. The enterprise that believed that
anti-Semitism would become extinct with the founding of a moral Jewish country
was reminded how wrong that hope was. While it withholds fire in a bid to save
civilian life, it is condemned as an imperialistic murderer of women and
children. The world calls for a cease-fire every time it appears that the Jews
are gaining ground in their battle against pure, unadulterated evil.

Arabs
kill Arabs in Syria, yet there is no call for a cease-fire. In Afghanistan and
Iraq, hundreds of thousands are killed, yet the world looks the other way.
Every day, people are murdered in Africa by militant Muslims, yet no one has
heard a call for a cease-fire. But if Jews are making headway against a terror
state that seeks their destruction, the world’s conscience is awakened to the
plight of innocent civilians being murdered by a thoughtless, cruel army.

Anti-Semitism
morphs to fit with the times. The age-old hatred for the Jewish nation adopts
different slogans and chants, but at the heart of it all is the same old hatred
for Yitzchok by Yishmoel, and Yaakov by Eisov and Lavan.

Whether
it’s under the guise of blaming the Jews for poisoning the drinking water,
spreading the plague, or drinking human blood, as in the days of old, or
cloaked in humanitarian vestments as today, hate is hate. Today in Europe, a
continent soaked with Jewish blood, it is once again in vogue to bash Jews,
demonstrate against them, accuse them of the vilest of crimes, and create an
atmosphere reminiscent of the darkest days of Jewry many believed we would
never return to.

The eis
tzorah is palpable in England, where Jews were burned alive; in Paris,
where the Talmud was lit up and destroyed; in Germany, home of Kristallnacht
and the Holocaust; Poland, home of the crematoria; Austria, birthplace of
Hitler; and Washington, where FDR turned a blind eye to pleas to save Jews.

How
incongruous that Romans gathered to spew anti-Semitism in the shadow of the
Coliseum, the ancient building in which Jews were fed to lions.

We
wonder how it will end. When will justice triumph? When will care and concern
about the good and the kind be paramount?

We
recognize that we suffer persecution and discrimination because we are Jews.
The world’s hatred of the Jew is not derived from their concern over human
rights violations or political decisions.

We are
reminded day after day that sinah yordah l’olam, hatred for the Jewish
people descended to the world as we gathered at Har Sinai to accept the
Torah. Since that time, we have been cast apart from other nations, despised,
reviled, stomped and murdered. Miraculously, we endure.

Nonetheless,
we witness what is transpiring in Eretz Yisroel and around the world and we
fret. We worry about our future here, in Europe and in Israel. Our complacency
has been shaken, our comfort zone breached. There is a current of unease
rippling through our communities, tremors of fear in our hearts.

Yet,
this Shabbos, we will go to shul and listen as the haftorah
proclaims that Hashem calls out to us and says, “Nachamu nachamu Ami. Be
comforted, My nation.”

How do
we find answers to our questions? By learning this week’s parsha. We
read the pesukim of ParshasVa’eschanon and see the
answers spelled out for us repeatedly.

The pesukim
of this week’s parsha form a retrospective reminding us of the very
beginnings of our nation and our first footsteps as the Chosen People.

We feel
along with Moshe Rabbeinu as he pleads for mercy. “Asher mi Keil - Who
else is like You, Hashem?” he wonders (Devorim 3:24). Rashi
explains that a king of flesh and blood is surrounded by advisors who question
his merciful decisions, whereas Hashem can extend mercy without listening to
others.

There is
a spark of nechomah.

We read
about the essence of life, “V’atem hadveikim baHashem Elokeichem chaim
kulchem hayom,” and we feel a surge of hope. Life means connecting to
Hashem, a little more intensity in tefillah, and more concentration when
we sit by a Gemara (Devorim 4:3).

We
continue by listening closely to Moshe Rabbeinu’s reminder: “Mi goy gadol
asher lo Elokim krovim eilov - Who else has this gift and ability that
Hashem listens every time we cry out to Him?” (Devorim 4:7).

A friend
told me that his grandfather was seated in a crowded waiting room at Sloan
Kettering Memorial Hospital, awaiting his weekly chemotherapy session, Rachmona
litzlan. An unfamiliar chassidishe fellow walked by and indicated
the overflowing room, filled with patients fighting for their lives. “Zei
hubben nisht vus mir hubben,”said the chossid, who walked
on.

We have
a weapon that no one else has.

And the
elderly patient was comforted, for the truth of the comment gave him hope.

Has
Hashemperformed such miracles for any other nation? Has He gone to war
for them and inspired awe and terror like He has done for us? (Devorim
4:34).

We learn
those pesukim and think of the fanciful tales of miracles and salvation
we have heard and recognize that we are not fighting this battle alone, but
rather with Divine assistance. Hashem enabled the creation and implementation
of a missile protection system to neutralize lethal rockets, which nobody
believed possible. He brought about the discovery of Hamas’ advanced tunnel
infrastructure before they were able to carry out their evil plans.

The
stories emanating from Eretz Yisroel during the war - of missiles blown to sea
by sudden winds, of a field freshly cut of its wheat for use as shmurah
matzah suddenly exposed as host to a terrorist tunnel, and of schoolyards
suddenly vacated by children just as fragments land there - tell us that this
truth is eternal and provide comfort for us in this trying time.

We
return to the parsha and study the Aseres Hadibros, which form
the building blocks of our lives as Torah Jews. We recognize that they set us
apart from the rest of the world, and by following their precepts, we are
placed on a higher, blessed plane.

We study
the words of “Shema Yisroel Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echod,” which
comprise the bedrock of our faith. We wake up to those words and go to sleep to
them in Shacharis, Arvis and Krias Shema Al Hamitah. They form
the last physical action by souls ascending to heaven and are the enduring
final message of martyrs through the generations.

In 6:18,
we are taught how to live as ehrliche Yidden: “You should act
honorably and be truthful; then Hashem will be good to you and will bring us
into the land He swore to our forefathers and will drive away our enemies from
confronting us.”

If we
seek Hashem’s protection and aid in battle, we must affirm our commitment to
honesty and to battling corruption - not just listening, but acting. If we
tolerate men of ill-will and sometimes even promote them, how can we expect
Hashemto fight for us?

We read
about how He will lead us into the Promised Land, where we will find homes
filled with good. It is an attainable goal, assured to us by He who is “ne’eman
leshaleim s’char.” If we follow the word of Hashem, as laid out in the pesukim
of this week’s parsha, we know that we will merit salvation, prosperity
and peace.

The
founding of Israel and the Six Day War were undeniably turning points in our
history, but people became enamored with the power of man and seemed to
overlook the Hand of Hashem. We are sent regular reminders that if we forget
the Divine role and Hand in our existence, we are doomed to experience tragedy.

We merit
nechomah when we recognize that we are kechomer beyad hayotzeir,
wholly dependent upon Hashem’s mercy for our very existence.

Parshas
Va’eschanon and the Aseres Hadibros are always lained
on Shabbos Nachamu. This is to remind us that our nechomah
arrives when we follow the Aseres Hadibros and the Torah. It is only
through fidelity to Torah and Hashem’s word that we merit living peacefully, in
Israel and everywhere else.

May we
prove ourselves worthy of Hashem’s protection in a turbulent, unfriendly world.

After
studying this week’s pesukim and the promises they contain, how can we
feel anything else but “Nachamu, nachamu Ami”? How can we not experience
consolation?

We are
armed with the Torah’s enduring message of where we are going and how to get
there.

Rav Levi
Yitzchok of Berditchev once stood in his bais medrash, quietly observing
men preparing for Shacharis. Finally, he opened his mouth in prayer.

“Ribbono
Shel Olam,” he said, “If, chas veshalom, a pair of tefillin falls,
the Jew reacts with alarm. His heart pounds as he throws himself to the ground
to lift and kiss them before gently placing them in their holy sack. What does
it say in your tefillin? ‘Hashem, umi ke’amcha Yisroel goy echod
ba’aretz’ (Brachos 6).